


Zolmoria Delta II

by NasstyHobbitses



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 11:32:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10098659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NasstyHobbitses/pseuds/NasstyHobbitses
Summary: An alien miasma invades the ship, making the crew extraordinarily randy. Spirk ensues.





	

Jim awoke with a start. The alarms were blaring. Red alert.  
He pulled on his boots. He had to get to get the bridge, fast.  
The door wooshed open and Jim threw himself into the corridor.  
Something was blocking him. For a second Jim simply could not believe what he was seeing – the ship was on red alert and here were two members of his crew…fornicating.  
A yeoman had pounced on a young crewman, pressing him up against the wall, their kisses frantic. The crewman grabbed the woman’s bare thighs and lifted her, turning the two of them so that the yeoman’s back slammed to the wall, her hands reaching around to grab the crewman’s behind and pull him into her.  
“Yeoman!” Jim said, unable to remember the name or rank of the young crewman. He had expected them to spring apart, shame-faced. Instead, they simply moaned as the yeoman pulled the man closer.  
“Crewmen! Return to your stations!”  
Nothing happened.  
“For goodness sake!” Jim said, grabbing the upper arm of each participant. “The ship is on red alert! Return to your stations! That is a direct order from your Captain!”  
It was as if he wasn’t even present.  
He turned; a movement down the corridor had caught his eye. Another couple were rolling on the floor - one brunette straddled another and leant forward to nip the other woman’s neck.  
His crew had all gone mad.  
Jim let go of the yeoman and the crewman and sprinted to the end of the corridor. This must be something other than crew misconduct; the Klingons perhaps, or some Romulan chemical warfare. Yes, they had faced something similar after they visited the planet Psi 2000; the crew had lost their inhibitions to some contagion that spread by touch.  
Jim looked at his hands, concerned, but the fornicating couple hadn’t touched him skin-to-skin.  
He had to get to sick bay, see what remedy Bones was working on to help his crew. Mercifully, no one else was fornicating directly in his path. Jim sprinted down the corridor.  
“Man alive!” The Captain had reached the turbolift only to find the doors open and Scotty on the floor, settled between the thighs of another man and reaching to unzip his trousers.  
He whipped around, wildly. He didn’t have the time to get to sick-bay any other way.  
Steeling himself, he bent down and pulled on the ankles of the man beneath Scotty, managing to shift them a few inches. Panting, he stepped over them, crouched again and pushed the men with all his strength. They rolled over. He pushed again and they rolled out of the lift.  
He stepped into it quickly. “Sick-bay.”  
Jim paced the lift as it moved. When the door opened, he ran the length of the corridor clutched the doorframe at sickbay to catch his breath.  
“Bones! You won’t believe-”  
Bones was against the wall, trousers around his ankles. His young intern, a lad in his teens, was on his knees in front of him, lips around Bones’s cock. Nurse Chapel sat on a bed, legs dangling over the edge, twirling her blonde hair around a finger. Bones had one hand down the front of her uniform and the other in the lad’s hair, guiding his head as he took more of Bones’s length into his mouth.  
“Bones! What the devil-!”  
Kirk stumbled back. Bones seemed vaguely to register that he was there, and the doctor’s blue eyes looked into his for a second.  
“Dammit Jim! I’m a doctor, not a eunuch.”  
Jim whipped around, horrified, as the image burned itself into his retinas. He started to bring his palms to his eyes, before he remembered the ship was still in red alert.  
There was no time for this. His ship and his crew were in danger.  
Jim began to run to the corridor, dodging the hands that groped for him to pull him into their embraces. Spock at least – Mr Spock must have set the red alert – he would be unaffected. Whatever this was, it wouldn’t have overcome the discipline of his Vulcan mind.  
Spock’s voice came over the ship’s communication system.  
“All non-essential personnel return to your quarters. Officers, man your battle stations. Repeat, all hands to battle stations. We appear to have been attacked with Zolmorian miasma.”  
Jim’s heart lifted. Spock was in control of the situation.  
But wait…Zolmorian miasma? He had learned about this at the Academy, he was certain of it…yes, it had been invented when a counterculture on Zolmoria Delta II had protested against the Federation; they had preached ‘make love not war’, and developed a gas that wouldn’t kill whoever breathed it, but instead…  
“I have to get to the bridge,” Jim muttered, increasing his pace towards the nearest turbolift.  
Sulu and Chekov blocked the entrance. Sulu was against the door, Chekov running his hands up and down Sulu’s slender body, making his uniform ride up to reveal the tight muscles and tawny skin. Chekov thrust his hips forward between Sulu’s thighs, whose head was now thrown back as Chekov trailed kisses down his neck.  
“Yes…yes…” Chekov moaned Slavicly, before Sulu captured his lips in a frenzied kiss. He stood there, horrified, afraid that he may never get Sulu’s distinctive moans out of his head, afraid to push the men out of the way in case they reached for him to make him join.  
Luckily, the two of them seemed to melt onto the floor, where Sulu rolled on top of Chekov, straddled him and ripped the other ensign’s uniform before licking slowly from his naval to the button of his trousers. Jim looked away from them and realised the doors were now unblocked. He stepped over them and threw himself through the door into the turbolift.  
He slammed the controls with unnecessary force and ordered the turbolift to go to the bridge. He bent over, his other hand against the wall as he tried to catch his breath. The doors opened and he stepped onto the bridge.  
The doors closed behind him and he let out a sigh. Uhura and Spock were working diligently; no sign of any…unprofessional behaviour on the bridge. Uhura was at her station, tapping and sliding the controls of her equipment and Spock was bending over his console. Like so many times before, Jim’s eyes flickered to Spock’s backside.  
“Mr Spock,” Jim said, coming forward.  
“Captain. I have ordered a red alert. Phaser banks are activated and deflectors have been brought to full power.”  
“Good job, Spock.” Jim wiped the sweat from his brow. “It’s...chaos out there.”  
“Current analyses suggest that the ship has been attacked with Zolmorian miasma, which has the property of making anyone affected…” Spock raised an eyebrow, “extraordinarily randy, Captain.”  
“Of course. I recall learning about it at the Academy,” Jim replied. “Are we three the only ones not affected?”  
“I have given orders for personnel to return to their quarters, but…I believe so, sir.”  
Jim went to stand behind his chair and put his hands on the back of it. “What do they want from us? What reason for the attack?”  
“Lieutenant Uhura is trying to contact the vessel that we believe attacked us.”  
Jim turned to Uhura. “Keep trying to contact them. Prepare to send a distress signal on my orders.”  
“Aye, sir,” Uhura said, without looking away from her station.  
“Spock, Mr Sulu is…currently indisposed. Help me set a course to steer out of the enemy vessel’s zone.”  
The two of them crossed the bridge. Suddenly, Jim felt Spock’s hand close around his wrist, large and warm. “Captain…”  
Jim looked up. He saw it then through the window. A pink mist, seemingly tapping at the glass, as if sentient. It began to come through.  
“How-how can it do that?” Jim asked.  
“The miasma has been refined by the Romulans over the years so that its particles act like that of light. As light can travel through glass, so too can this miasma. Scientifically, it is most interesting.”  
“Send that distress signal, Uhura,” Kirk ordered.  
“Aye aye, Captain,” she replied.  
“Captain,” Spock said, “I…I..”  
“Spock we…have to set a course…” Jim gasped.  
He looked at Spock. His brown eyes had turned to pools of unadulterated lust. Must…resist…Jim thought wildly, but before he had finished the thought, he was ripping open Spock’s blue uniform. He ran his fingers up through Spock’s chest hair as the Vulcan laced his fingers in Jim’s hair, pulling back his head to capture his lips in a heated kiss.  
Spock grabbed Jim’s hips and pulled the other man closer to him, kissing him roughly and moving his hands down to grab handfuls of Jim’s ass. Jim leaned his hips forward and pressed his straining erection into Spock, hearing Spock’s low moan. This miasma was incredible; Jim had never had such a raging erection in his life.  
Somehow, in some portion of his mind, he heard Uhura’s scream and the volume of her footsteps dwindling as she fled, the door wooshing shut behind her. But all he cared about was Spock and finally getting his hands on that Vulcan Adonis after years of waiting, wanting…  
“Jim…” Spock moaned, “Captain…”  
Jim’s balls tightened with desire, his hardness throbbing with unfulfilled need to be touched by his First Officer. He loved it when Spock called him Captain.  
“Mm…say it again…say it...”  
“Yes…sir.”  
It was so good….so wrong…and so unspeakably arousing to doing be this with Spock, here on the bridge, his First Officer moaning ‘Captain’ in that voice that could melt butter.  
Jim reached down, tugging at Spock’s belt. The metal of Spock’s belt clinked as he pulled it open, and in a second he had pulled Spock’s trousers and underwear down in one rough movement. He pushed Spock back onto the navigation console, unknowing and uncaring whether they accidentally sent the Enterprise into Romulan territory at warp 6.  
Spock’s hands pulled Jim into his lap and tore his top so that only tatters clung to Jim’s muscled form. He ran his hands over the bared flesh and kissed the Captain again.  
Jim was so hard, so intoxicated by the miasma and by Spock, and so desperate for the touch of Spock’s hands that he felt that their mere touch on his bare skin might undo him.  
He slid off Spock’s lap and fell to knees, unbuttoning his own trousers to free his neglected manhood from the tightness of his trousers, and grasped Spock’s vulcanhood firmly in his hand. Jim moved his mouth towards it and licked just the underside of Spock’s tip, making the Vulcan moan throatily.  
Jim took the tip into his mouth and looked up to see Spock’s reaction; the brown eyes were glazed with desire, lost in the sensation of Jim’s mouth around his hardness, his large hands gripping the edge of the panel he was leaning against.  
Jim moved his mouth down Spock’s length, taking as much as he could into his mouth and feeling Spock’s hips spasm with pleasure. He felt one of Spock’s hands come around to the back of his head and the fingers curl in his hair. Jim moaned, aroused by the knowledge of Spock’s pleasure conveyed by those tightening fingers. There was only one thing Jim wanted as much as to be deep inside Spock, and that was for Spock to be deep inside him.  
Jim licked his lips, and moved his head back to take the whole of Spock’s length into his mouth.  
“Captain,” Spock moaned. Jim increased his pace. Spock’s hips thrust uncontrollably into his mouth, the movements of his hips erratic. Jim’s eye flickered up again and his eyes met the Vulcan’s.  
“Jim!” Spock cried, losing his usual Vulcan reserve. Spock’s eyes squeezed shut, his teeth clenched as his hips bucked.  
And then several things happened at one.  
As Spock spurted his seed into Jim’s waiting mouth, the door wooshed open and Uhura’s voice came from behind them. Jim turned slightly to the side, seeing Uhura looking up at the ceiling very deliberately as she spoke.  
“Captain…I was able to make contact with the ship…they were doing a training exercise, informed that no other Starships would be in the area. It was a drill for a Zolmorian miasma attack with a- an imitation miasma.”  
Jim swallowed one last time. Spock’s softening dick fell from Jim’s mouth as he looked sidelong at Uhura.  
“They…they said there was no need to be concerned about contamination because at the Zolmorian agent was absent. Sir.”  
“Meaning that the miasma had worked something like a placebo,” Spock surmised aloud. Jim looked up to see Spock standing upright, his hands folded behind his back.  
Jim watched as his First Officer raised an eyebrow.  
“Fascinating.”


End file.
